cooking for the masses

It may have escaped your notice, but I don’t actually make it a habit to cook. I tend to not cook for myself, nor for Ronnie and myself and yet Thursday found my up at 530am making a bacon sandwich and preparing Beef in Beer stew for that night’s family dinner. Not as simple as it sounds. To start with getting up at 530 after a long and every day early start was something just to begin with – remember that whole early to rise Proverbs’ woman, and how I am not that woman?!

I make a bacon sandwich for Ronnie to take with him to work, and well in making the sandwich I manage to set off the smoke alarm – it isn’t even 6am, and the smoke alarm is blaring, which precipitates the need to open the doors and windows. Sandwich made, on to the meat. Toss meat with flour, seasoned with salt and pepper, add more flour, and then more – I never was any good at measurements! Meat ready to brown, just have to heat the oil. Oil in skillet heating, I’m chopping onions to add to the mix. Smell something faintly charring, oh yes I seem to have forgotten the fact that the oil is heating, and in doing so burn the oil. New frying pan out, heat new batch of oil, paying attention this time. Add meat, brown, add meat, brown, add meat, brown – there was a LOT of meat. Meat done, add onions with minced garlic to the mix, brown them, toss them into the pot. Add Guinness to the frying pan, add more Guinness and then some more, five bottles later and the dish is filled. The stew is ready to go, pop it into the oven. Hop into the shower, and I am off to work at 7am.

I work a split shift of child care, and then back at 330pm to take stew from my oven to the home of family dinner. My kitchen looks as if a tornado has whipped through, and really in essence one has – ELLIE!!

When all was said and done though, the meal was a success. It was served with mash potatoes, bread, and salad, followed by homemade apple and cherry pie. I think I surprised all those that partook of the food, including myself – although having cooked since 7 that morning, and served at 7 that night I don’t think I could have gone too far wrong – the meat basically fell apart in your mouth. I was though pleasantly satisfied to see that I can cook, that at times it is mind over matter. I might be letting the success get to my head though, because I read two recipes in the back of a book I recently finished and I think I am now capable of producing such culinary delights as stuffed peppers, and salmon and artichokes, and millefuilleres; so we shall see what the future holds in that department.

In other news, after such said long and grueling day, preceded by a long week, I am settled into bed, just reading a chapter or two to fall asleep to, and Ronnie sneaks around the door. He has this sheepish, baby brother look that I first erroneously mistook for him seeking toll bridge money – if only!!! No, he was there to tell me that he had in fact somehow managed to lock us into our condo. Lock us in you say? Yes, in opening the door to deposit his bag to his car, he hit the door handle too hard against the door handle stopper, and in doing so sprang loose the spring that acted as the mechanism to turn the door knob. Our attempt to fix the problem may have in fact made it worse. So basically we can’t use our front door, which means that we have to exit and enter our condo through the bedroom window or by leaping off the fence in our patio.

So 7am Friday morning found me lifting up the blinds to balance my bags for work on the window sill, and clambering out of the window. Oh, did I happen to mention the fact that it was raining and had been all night, and that the rain had in fact created a lovely mud puddle right where you have to step in getting your legs out of the window??? And to get back in, right back through the window.

What can I say? This week certainly hasn’t been dull. Perhaps next week will have a little less excitement.